


The Place For Me and You

by campe-silky (SilkyinaBottle)



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Deaf Character, Drabble Collection, F/F, F/M, First Dates, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Multi, Other, Restaurants, Unrequited Crush, dolph goes by dolly, just trying to put some good shit in the tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-06-02 16:32:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19445296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilkyinaBottle/pseuds/campe-silky
Summary: A collection of Camp Camp drabbles, some AU, some not. A variety of ships, all SFW, with no nasty ships in sight.





	1. Win or Lose - Erin/Nerris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know, when you asked me on a date, this isn’t what I had in mind.”
> 
> [ Erin/Nerris, high school AU, first date. ]

“You know, when you asked me on a date, this isn’t what I had in mind.”

Nerris quirked an eyebrow in Erin’s direction, so obviously oblivious as to how _anyone_ could think this was a bad idea. “What do you mean?”

Erin glanced around the interior of the cafe: quaint chalkboard menus, worn hardwood flooring, and most importantly, shelves lining the walls, filled with more board games than she’d ever seen in her life. Erin didn’t even know this many board games _existed._ She could only name a handful off the top of her head: Scrabble, Monopoly, chess and checkers, Battleship…? “It’s just... like, a lot. You know?”

Nerris closed her eyes and nodded sagely. “I understand. It can be a bit overwhelming at first sight. But don’t worry, ye weary traveler, I will teach you the ropes.”

“...Thanks.” Not what she asked for, but thanks.

“Here, how about this,” she suggested, taking Erin by the hand (and god, even though this whole situation was ridiculous and she couldn’t believe she ever agreed to go out with the president of the _Fantasy Club,_ it made her heart skip a beat) and leading her over to the furthest wall. “You can pick something out while I go order. I won’t mind if we start out with something simple.”

Erin’s eyes flickered between game titles—Carcassonne, Twilight Struggle, Warhammer Quest...—her mind desperate to process all of the information spread out before her. “...Okay,” she agreed, surprising even herself.

“Great!” Nerris chirped, her voice like a squeaky, charming little bell. “What do you want to eat?”

“Do they have croissants?” she asked, her fingers already reaching out to graze against the frayed edges of the board game boxes. There was something familiar about it, like being in the library, running her fingers against the worn spines of dusty books. Just the aesthetic alone was opening up something buried deeply inside of her.

“Yep!”

Erin nodded, even though she was turned away from Nerris, meaning the other girl couldn’t see her move her head much at all. “And something with chocolate.”

“Okay. Anything to drink?”

She hummed in consideration. “Tea? Peppermint, if they have that.”

“Got it. I’ll be right back.” She made her way to the counter, leaving Erin to her wall of board games. Which somehow she didn’t mind. She didn’t mind much at all.

She was starting to think this date might not turn out so bad after all.


	2. Playing Pretend - Max/Snake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And then one day, with the two of them sitting at the edge of the dock, the night air feeling like lightning all around them, Snake said something that broke the spell.
> 
> “I think you missed your calling.”
> 
> [ Max/Snake, future summer, unrequited. ]

Being around Snake was a complicated thing. Of course it was; the guy had stabbed him with a candy cane once, for fuck’s sake. Snake was rough, temperamental, a bit of a loose cannon. But then again, wasn’t Max, too? Maybe that’s what drew them to each other in the first place.

But over the years, he seemed to lighten up. He’d take a boat across the lake past midnight just to visit, smuggle Max candy (that he’d keep to himself instead of selling), or leave notes underneath his pillow. Weird stuff like that. Weird, soft stuff that made Max’s heart sing songs he didn’t want to hear.

For a while, he could pretend it was real. He could pretend he and Snake were  _ friends  _ in some kind of unorthodox way. He could pretend that was something that bothered him. He could pretend that maybe,  _ somehow,  _ these unwilling feelings of his were requited.

And then one day, with the two of them sitting at the edge of the dock, the night air feeling like lightning all around them, Snake said something that broke the spell.

“I think you missed your calling.”

At first, Max chuckled, as he often did at Snake’s more spontaneous, disjointed comments. “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“The Woodscouts,” Snake said, leaning back on his hands and looking Max in the eyes. “You should have joined them.”

The air around Max, once electric with energy, went still. Above all else, he was aware that this was the first time Snake had met his eyes all night. “Is that what this was about?” he said at last, his voice barely a whisper, but still too loud for his ears. “Were you… were you just playing the fucking  _ long game  _ trying to get me to join your shitty camp?”

His previously blank expression gave way to a look of confusion. “What? No. I hardly even said anything, geez.”

“You hardly even—” Max started to repeat, but he found the will to shut himself up. “I don’t wanna be a fucking  _ Woodscout,  _ Snake.”

Snake turned back to the lake, his face unreadable in the dim moonlight. “Then why are we even friends.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. More than that, it was a sign to walk away and end all of this before Max got himself hurt wishing for something that didn’t exist.

“We’re not,” Max told him, getting to his feet. Snake looked so small now, so beneath him, so unworthy of feeling anything for in the first place. “But if we were, maybe it’d be because we actually  _ enjoyed  _ being around each other, regardless of stupid arbitrary camp groups.” He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, fighting the urge to hug himself tightly instead. “But I guess that was just me.”

He turned on his heel, letting the cool night air sweep him back towards his tent.


	3. Something - Nurf/Pikeman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every time, before they first kiss, Pikeman whispers, “Don’t trust me.” Against his neck, against his lips, against the shell of his ear. It’s a warning, it’s a reminder, it’s a promise.
> 
> [ Nurf/Pikeman, future summer, casual relationship. ]
> 
> _Potential triggers: eating disorder mention, internalized homophobia._

Edward Pikeman is an  _ infuriating  _ person. He’s the kind of person Nurf would have (back in his youth, when he knew far less restraint) slammed against a wall just for looking at him funny. The sort of guy who’s always the first to raise his hand in class, with a smug little grin on his face, like he’s bragging about it. The exact type of person who would kidnap people to join his shitty excuse for a summer camp, not realizing that his behavior is part of what’s driving people away in the first place.

But as infuriating as he is… Nurf has to admit he doesn’t mind what they have. It may not be something, but it’s certainly not nothing, either.

It’s throwing glares at each other whenever he shows up at Camp Campbell to gloat, something alight in Pikeman’s eyes every single time. It’s grabbing on Pikeman’s hair and pulling hard during a raid, just to fuck with him, because he knows he likes it. It’s sneaking behind the counselor’s cabin to make out. It’s pressing each other against walls like they’re absolutely furious, even if Nurf feels mildly irritated at best. It’s blowing off steam. It’s a form of anger management.

Every time, before they first kiss, Pikeman whispers, “Don’t trust me.” Against his neck, against his lips, against the shell of his ear. It’s a warning, it’s a reminder, it’s a promise.

He knows, logically, he shouldn’t. Pikeman is a weasel, a dirty rat, a snake with yellow eyes that meet Nurf’s too easily. He tries to steal their campers and break their things, but he’s just so  _ ineffective  _ at it. It makes him as hard to fear as it is to take him seriously.

But there are always…  _ moments.  _ Moments of clarity, moments where Nurf understands why he acts the way he does.

The way he jilts every time someone comments on his appearance. How rail thin he is, like just a little bit of force from Nurf would break him easily. The way Nurf’s never seen him eat, ever, not even a piece of that shitty popcorn he sells.

How defensive he gets whenever someone comments on Snake’s eyepatch or Petrol never speaking. How desperate he is to prove himself—and his troop—to others, and make the Woodscouts proud. How he’s never been seen wearing anything but long pants and boots, even in the middle of summer. That time Nurf accidentally ran his knee into Pikeman’s shin and instead of hitting flesh, hit solid metal (that had hurt, a lot).

The way he checks for people at least three times whenever they sneak off together. And how he’s never stopped trying to hit on Gwen, after all this time, even though there are a million other girls he could hit on that are much closer to his age and could possibly even be interested. But something tells Nurf he doesn’t want a girl who’s interested, or any girl at all.

That “something” is all the making out, obviously. But that’s all that’s between them. A vague  _ something.  _ And “something” isn’t enough to get Nurf to start asking questions. Yet.


	4. Nightmares - Max/Dolly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dolly turns to look at him like he’s crazy. Max doesn’t blame him. They’ve hardly spoken since the candy incident, and now they’re back to room sharing? It sounds unreal. “Max, what on earth do you think you’re—”
> 
> “Shh,” Max lowers himself onto Dolly’s cot, collapsing almost immediately, “c’mere…”
> 
> [ Max/Dolph, future summer, hurt/comfort. ]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fyi, any of my fics with dolph have him referred to as "dolly," with the idea that he picked up the nickname after realizing why he made everyone so,,,,,,, uncomfortable

Insomnia fucking blows. It especially blows when it’s due to depression. Max has been tossing and turning in his cot for what feels like  _ hours,  _ and nothing. The sound of crickets and wolves and crying or whatever the fuck outside isn’t helping. He hates camp.

...Wait, crying? He slowly rises to a sitting position in bed, holding still to try and pick out the sound. Sure enough, he can hear the quiet noise of someone sobbing some ways off from his tent. He can’t quite pick out the voice—it’s not like he hears his campmates cry on a  _ daily  _ basis—but he at least knows it’s not Neil, who’s sleeping soundly in the bed beside him.

So, whatever, right? He shouldn’t care. Only... god knows he won’t be able to sleep at all if he has to listen to someone crying their eyes out for the next hour.

He slowly pulls himself out of bed, determined to get a half-decent night’s sleep. Because it’s not like he’s friends with any of these morons and cares about them crying or anything. He just needs some fucking sleep, that’s all.

He drags himself out into the cool night air, towards the sound of the crying. It leads him two tents down, and he sighs, knowing who awaits him inside. “Seriously…?” he mumbles to himself. Dolly is the last person he wants to deal with tonight. He’d rather deal with  _ Preston  _ over Dolly.

But if he wants any hope of getting some sleep tonight… it seems he’s going to have to swallow his pride. He sighs and smacks his fist against the tent flaps—his best attempt at knocking—before waiting for a response. The sobbing and sniffling pauses, and Max takes the opportunity to knock again. “Dolly. Open up.”

It takes a few moments, but eventually the entrance to the tent is pulled aside, revealing Dolly. He’s gotten taller over the years, outgrowing Max (and his old behavior, his old nickname, his old everything) by about an inch. But as it stands, he still looks like any regular old kid. Especially since his face is stained with tear tracks. “Max…?”

“The hell are you crying for,” it’s not a question, but a demand to know. “It’s like one in the morning.” Still, he keeps his voice soft. Because he doesn’t want to wake up the others and piss them off. Obviously.

“Just… a nightmare,” he says, futilely rubbing under his eyes, as if to hide the evidence. “I would not want you to worry about it.”

“A nightmare,” Max repeats. Fuck, he’s way too familiar with those. It actually gives him a pang of sympathy for the guy. “...Well, I guess since we both have to sleep anyways…” He invites himself right into Dolly’s tent.

Dolly turns to look at him like he’s crazy. Max doesn’t blame him. They’ve hardly spoken since the candy incident, and now they’re back to room sharing? It sounds unreal. “Max, what on earth do you think you’re—”

“Shh,” Max lowers himself onto Dolly’s cot, collapsing almost immediately, “c’mere…”

Dolly hesitates in the entryway for a moment, his hands tightening on the fabric of the tent. But when he finally lets go, he comes rushing to bed almost instantly, curling up by Max’s side and hanging on tight.


	5. Milk Snake - Snake/Petrol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Come on,”_ Petrol signs, _“you’re being dramatic.”_
> 
> Snake swivels around from where he’s standing, directly in front of the wall of glass tanks, to properly reply. _“I am not. I’m serious. I want them all.”_
> 
> [ Snake/Petrol, adult AU, pet shopping. ]

_ “Come on,” _ Petrol signs,  _ “you’re being dramatic.” _

Snake swivels around from where he’s standing, directly in front of the wall of glass tanks, to properly reply.  _ “I am not. I’m serious. I want them all.” _

Petrol gives him a hard look, ignoring when his boyfriend makes puppy dog eyes (well, one puppy dog eye, really) at him.  _ “You can’t adopt every snake here. We wouldn’t have anywhere to put them.” _

_ “We could always empty out the guest room,”  _ he suggests, and it’s exactly the sort of Snake-brand stupid idea that Petrol expected out of him.  _ “Turn it into a giant snake tank. Imagine how happy they’d be.” _

Snake’s eye is drawn back to the wall, where his gaze lands on a small snake, white and red striped, slithering along happily in its tank. He leans in closer, practically pressing his face against the glass, and Petrol has to stifle a laugh. He may not realize it, but he’s actually very cute at times.

Petrol reaches his arm out and makes a quick waving motion to get his attention. When Snake is looking his way, he signs again.  _ “I’ll let you get one,”  _ he tells him, the look of amusement never leaving his face.  _ “But only one.” _

Snake pouts, but slowly turns back to the tank he was staring at previously. The snake inside lifts its little head up and stares at him, and Snake’s mouth falls open in response. He turns back to Petrol, looking absolutely delighted.

_ “That one?”  _ Petrol asks.

Snake nods.  _ “She likes me!” _

Petrol nods and goes to flag down an employee for them. Within forty-five minutes, they’re leaving the store with a large tank, several heat lamps, and their new friend (not to mention all of the other supplies they needed to stock up on to keep her happy and healthy).  _ “She’s a milk snake,”  _ Snake tells him as they fit her tank into the trunk.  _ “Albino. She looks like a candy cane, I love her.” _

Petrol has to hold back another laugh.  _ “Somehow I knew that factored into your decision.”  _ Once everything is packed in, he takes a step back and swings the trunk door shut.  _ “Do you know what you’re going to name her?” _

Snake smiles.  _ “Sugar.” _

_ “Of course.”  _ He shouldn’t have expected anything less.  _ “Let’s go home,”  _ he signs before taking out his keys.

Life with Snake never gets any easier, but it always gets more fun.


	6. Comfort Zone - Harrison/Neil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harrison chuckles lightly, one of his gloved fingers running along the edge of his cloth napkin. Probably force of habit, Neil thinks—it’s all too like the cloths he uses for his ridiculous disappearing tricks. But even if they’re ridiculous, Neil has come to love them, the same way he’s come to love Harrison over the years.
> 
> “Don’t worry, dear,” he says, making Neil hunch his shoulders up a bit (after all this time, he still hasn’t gotten used to the pet names). “This one’s on me.”
> 
> [ Harrison/Neil, adult AU, fancy dinner date. ]

Neil is tense as the waiter carefully rearranges the flowers in the center of the table and hands them both their menus. The suit he’s wearing is far too stuffy, the lighting in this restaurant too dim, and the dangling chandeliers are making him a little nervous. Well, a little more nervous than he already is, which is really, really nervous.

He glances over the top of his menu to shoot a panicked look at his boyfriend, who seems perfectly at home. “This place is nice…,” he says, his voice barely leaving his throat.

Harrison chuckles lightly, one of his gloved fingers running along the edge of his cloth napkin. Probably force of habit, Neil thinks—it’s all too like the cloths he uses for his ridiculous disappearing tricks. But even if they’re ridiculous, Neil has come to love them, the same way he’s come to love Harrison over the years.

“Don’t worry, dear,” he says, making Neil hunch his shoulders up a bit (after all this time, he still hasn’t gotten used to the pet names). “This one’s on me.”

He sets his menu down, leaning over the table to speak to him in harsh whispers. “I’m not worried about the  _ price _ —I mean, if you weren’t paying, I’d kill you, but—” He lets out a tired sigh, feeling the tension in his body rise and fall. “Harrison. Look at me. You seriously think this is the place for me?”

And Harrison just smiles that ever charming smile, the one that simultaneously makes Neil want to kiss him and punch him in the face. “I’m looking, and you’re absolutely stunning.”

“Shut it,” he hisses in warning. “I know you mean it, but shut it. This place  _ terrifies  _ me.”

Harrison doesn’t look impressed. If anything, he looks a little amused. “Most places terrify you, darling.” To an outsider, it might sound invalidating, but Harrison has known Neil for years, and Neil knows that he’s absolutely right.

He sits back in his seat, upturning his eyes to the ceiling and pouting. “Okay, I know I’m throwing a fit.” Rule number one: never look at Harrison when you admit he’s right, because he always turns obnoxiously smug. “You’re treating me to a nice dinner, I get it. Just… I feel so out of place here.” His hand finds his own cloth napkin and he grabs at it, squeezing it like it’s some kind of stress-relief toy. It’s not very effective, to say the least.

“Neil.” Something warm brushes against Neil’s fingers, and he looks back down in time to see Harrison’s hand closing over his. “It’s okay. I know this isn’t really… your style. And I knew you’d be hesitant, but I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable. I just thought it’d be nice to try something new.”

Neil hesitates, his eyes moving from Harrison’s hand to his face, his expression warmer and softer than usual. “...It’s called a comfort zone for a reason,” he mumbles, really just being difficult for the sake of it. “But fine. Just for tonight.” It’ll be something to check off his bucket list, at least.


End file.
